The Origin of 2T
by Salvatore Shan NW
Summary: Ever wondered about 2T's life? Well here it is I'm not basing this on anything in the TV show I made up 2T and B.Bop's family by myself if n e 1 wants 2 use da names fine by me! This is a bit of a hard life for 2T he is a very abused child :
1. Default Chapter

The Origin of 2-T  
  
The crashing downstairs wouldn't stop. The eternal thumping, screaming, yelling... it just refused to cease. 2-T clutched Boyd and Arangetta (Arr-an- jet-ta) closer to him and held their hands. They were too young, all three of them, to witness such rage as this. Arangetta was crying and Boyd was trying to comfort her. 2-T was listening out for his parents. Please stop, he prayed, please let it end... A door slammed downstairs and 2-T sighed. It was over. Boyd began to crawl out from under his older brother's bed and was soon followed by his little sister of eight. He looked to 2-T's bedroom door and stood up. He was only a couple of inches taller than Arangetta, after all – he was only nine. 2-T didn't want to move – he'd spent most of his ten years of life under his bed when his parents often rowed like they had tonight. He looked under his bed and watched Arangetta and Boyd leave. He leant back, which he now had room to do. He breathed out and covered his head with his hands. 2-T began to cry uncontrollably. Please... please let them break up... he thought for the hundredth time. Yet he knew his dad would never leave his mum. He loved her too much. 2-T decided to come out from his shelter. He then went downstairs to comfort his dad. Mum was gone... But how long would it stay like that??  
  
Name: 2-T-Fru-T Age: 10 years old D.O.B: December 5th 2037 Address: 45 A, 'A' Housing Flats No 1332, West-End, Bogstar Special Features: Brown eyes Blood Type: R  
  
The whole family were watching TV, just like a normal family would. 2-T didn't know what a normal family felt like. He sat up and picked up the communicator by the hover chairs. His mother glared. "And who said you could use it? I certainly didn't!" she cried. 2-T jumped and dropped it onto the side table. His father patted his wife's hand and reassured her. "It's alright, Shereem – just let him call B.Bop." he smiled, but Shereem slapped his hand away. "You mean – waste my money on that daughter of a Rasmussen's son? I don't think so Drake!" Shereem stood up and pushed 2-T out of the room. Drake shot up in protest and Boyd and Arrie were still in shock of their mother swearing. "Go on, 2-T! Go to your real family! Go and play with your best friend, B.Bop. Face it! You like them a hell of a lot more than you like us! Go bow down to Cardinia while you're at it! And you can tell her from me that she's a..." Drake wouldn't tolerate Shereem saying 'Rasmussen' one more time in front of the kids, or pushing his eldest son. He stood up. "Now just you wait a minute, Shereem – The A-Luna's are a perfectly good family!! There's no reason to keep the boys apart!" But Shereem wasn't having any of it. She pushed 2-T out through the front door and sent him up the corridor of the A flats and sent him round the corner. She ordered him away until he was out of sight and then she walked in, to have another argument with Drake.  
  
Jools opened the door for 2-T and smiled at her best friend. "B.Bop!" she called upstairs, and she let 2-T in. Even though it was B.Bop she called, Cardinia and Bomray ran out from the front room. "2-T! Sweetheart!" Cardinia smiled. 2-T wished more than anything that she were his mother. Sometimes he fell asleep, dreaming it. "Hello Aunty Cardinia," 2-T beamed up at her. Act natural, he kept thinking. Since he was little, he'd called her Aunty Cardinia. It just suited her better than Cardinia, or B.Bop and Jools' mum. She kissed 2-T on his forehead, then flounced into the kitchen to dance with Minnie, who was helping wash the dishes. Why isn't this my family? 2-T asked God (who he worshipped – seeing as he'd studied Earth since he was four!). "2-T, how is it going, son?" Bomray was in front of him, holding his hand out – prepared for a friendly shake. Bomray always used to take B.Bop and 2- T space fishing – out on the balcony. There was only a few days a year for it to be perfect catching weather, and only on those days was the oxygen supplied free of charge – so facing the Abyss was safe. They couldn't afford O2 other days of the year, everyone who lived in the A flats were poor – mostly because they were one-man relationships. The law stated that because Martian girls were so rare, about five men had to marry one – only on one condition was this over-looked. If you had five or more kids after twenty years of marriage (Emperor Bog had a population to keep, didn't he???) B.Bop and 2-T were some of the fortunate children to have one mum and one dad – no step-dad's, step-brothers or step-sisters. B.Bop's mum and dad had six kids after sixteen years of marriage – so no pressure there – yet 2-T's mum and dad had been married only eight years and only had three kids. Bog was continually on their backs – and 2-T's mum was threatening to marry more men. 2-T wished she would – maybe then she would leave... He shook Bomray's hand and waited for B.Bop to come downstairs.  
  
Arrie was crying in the front room and Drake was cradling his arm in disbelief. Boyd was on the floor, a bump on his forehead where his mother had threw the communicator at him. Shereem was still holding the knife in her right arm, in complete shock. She could've killed her son. She'd stabbed her husband... Blood was running down Drake's arm and Arrie's nose was running, too. Everything was dripping down. Blood, tears... Shereem dropped the knife as if it were a disgusting beetle that had just crawled over her hand and she ran into the kitchen to get a tea cloth. Drake had had enough. "I'll just wipe it clean..." she stammered, "Then we can got to the Hospital and have it bandaged up." Shereem walked in and passed him the cloth. Drake snatched it and held it to his wound. "Go..." he whispered. Shereem looked shocked. "W-What? G-Go?" she looked around at her daughter and then at her unconscious son. She bit her lip and bent down. "Boyd? Boyd, darling? Boyd, mummy's awake!" she shook her son but it wouldn't wake him up. "SHEREEM, GET OUT!!!!" Drake screamed. Shereem stood up and understood the never-before-seen look on his face. Stay away from my children. She turned her back on everyone and stormed out of the house.  
  
"When I'm older. I wanna be a Commander!" B.Bop laughed, playing with his toy OMABs. "And I'm gonna own one of these... A nice yellow one!" he held up his favourite toy and pretended to make it zoom around. 2-T laughed and dug out a toy blaster and Emperor Bog figure from B.Bop's toy box. "Yeah! And me, you and Jools will beat Bog once and for all!" he pretended to shoot Bog and Jools laughed. "You have to be a real man to kill someone." She giggled. 2-T turned to her and put his hands on hips. "And how do you become a real man?" he asked the girl next to him. Jools blushed and hunched up her shoulders. Her nose twitched like a rabbits' and she whispered. "To become a real man you have to kiss a girl," she smiled at her best friend. 2-T went hot with embarrassment. B.Bop was looking from Jools to 2- T and then he smirked. "Oooooohhhh! Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!" he chanted. Jools went bright red and steam started radiating off of her. 2-T was exactly the same. B.Bop just kept jumping up and down wailing 'kiss'. Before 2-T could object, Jools was reaching over to him and then he felt her lips on his. At the touch, his insides melted and they both went stock-still. They were both thinking the same thing: My first kiss. When Jools pulled away, B.Bop had stopped shouting and the three friends were frozen. 2-T smiled at Jools, and grabbed for her hand. He refused to let go of it until he had to go home – and this he wished would never happen. 


	2. Going Home

"Mum, Dad, I'm home!" 2-T called down the corridor, the front door sliding open automatically. Drake was standing in the corridor, a crying Arangetta at his feet, whom he was trying to shake off because he was trying to support Boyd – Boyd having just regained consciousness.

"Dad? What happened, where's Mum?" 2-T asked, prying his little sister away from his father's feet and staring Boyd up and down. Drake sighed and just kept holding up his youngest son, his arm that had been stabbed hanging limp at his side. 2-T shuddered when he saw the blood and, being ten, didn't have the analytical skills or common sense to realise that this happened... and Mum wasn't in. 2-T decided to ask again, but this time lightly, worried about his dad's arm.

"Dad, where's Mum?" Drake sighed and gave up, falling to the floor and bringing Boyd with him. Arrie was crying on the carpet, wanting her Mummy back.

"She's gone, 2-T..." Drake whispered - his voice muffled by his hand as he placed it over his face in despair. Boyd's head fell forward; he was too weak to hold it up.

"Dad... I've got a headache..." Boyd whined, placing a hand on his forehead. Drake started crying and 2-T did, too. Mum was gone??? But why would she leave??? What had we done??? What had... He stopped thinking and choked back a gasp.

"It wasn't because of me, was it Dad?" he asked, his throat burning. Drake shook his head and held up his hand. 2-T held it, tight and dropped next to him.

"I told her to go away, just for a little while." Drake sounded as if he was talking to a four year old, not ten, but 2-T felt that it wasn't the time for big-boy talk. Besides, he was talking to Arrie and Boyd, too. It was the kind of news you had to deliver softly and calmly so as to not cause a panic or major upset. Arrie crawled over and the four had a hug on the floor. Drake kept looking up, expecting Shereem to come back, to say she was sorry and didn't blame Drake for over-reacting.... To kiss the kids on the head and hug them... For them all to go out to dinner as a happy family. To be normal again... Shereem didn't ever come back and Drake had to raise his children alone...

Sorry this one is shorter ï Uhmmm... Oh! 2-T sounds about six in the end of the last one so I'm sorry if it came across that way but when you're a teenager ten seems so young you've forgotten what it's like to be ten. Isn't it weird that most of the people that like Butt Ugly Martians are teenagers??? I go on the Nickelodeon message boards and most of the people on there is my age! Weird! Do you think Mike Young intended it to be for older viewers??? Why do people like them, because I LOVE them and people always ask me the question: why do you like them? And I shrug because I don't know why – IT'S ADDICTIVE, NEVERTHELESS, AND THE BEST SHOW EVER!!!!


	3. Knife Attack At Night

"Hello son." A familiar shadow stepped out of the darkness at the foot of 2-T's bed. He could tell by the voice that the intruder was a woman, but her voice was slurred and mad – as if she were a drunken psychopath. 2-T blinked a couple of times. He could tell instantly who it was, even if he hadn't seen her in four years. Mum? A glint of light reflected and he saw the knife in her hand.

"Don't scream, son, or I'll be forced to do to your father what I did 4 years ago." She whispered, raising the knife and extending it so 2-T could see it. The Bogstar's course changed, passing a star and light shot into the room. His mother's face was really pale, hardly blue, and her eyes were darting around in her head. She was crazy... 2-T screamed but no sound came out. She was going to kill him! The knife came down, ripped through his bed sheets, scarring him all over his body – tearing through his skin. Blood seeped through his bed sheets and he cried for Dad, but still he couldn't talk. His mother slowly massacred him, slashing him everywhere, but no matter how many times 2-T tried to call for help, his throat swelled shut.

"Night son." Shereem smiled, wiping the knife on her t-shirt and walking away. 2-T groaned, black dots swimming in his vision. Everything was going black... he'd lost too much blood. As if on a second thought, Shereem turned and punched the window (a big deal, because if you're in deep space you'd get sucked into oblivion and the room wouldn't be breathable) the glass scattered into 2-T's bed and he rolled over in pain, glass digging into his sides. Shereem grinned and left. It was lucky that they got 2-T to the hospital... even more lucky that he was still alive...

"But why do you hate your mum so much?" asked Ange, sitting next to 2-T on the couch as he told her his life story, trying not to sound like a veteran talking about the war. 2-T sighed and began to undo the purple zip on his suit. Angela went cold at first, but then saw the scars and her breath caught in her throat.

"Oh 2-T..." he had slash marks all across his body – he looked like Frankenstein's monster, dodgy stitching, large cuts, he looked like he'd had to be put back together. Angela fingered a particular scar, a pretty hefty one. 2-T flinched as she did so and turned away, embarrassed.

"And she did this?" Ange asked, her heart pounding in her chest. 2-T nodded and drew both sides of his shirt together, hastily. He didn't want to talk anymore; it wasn't such a good idea, after all. But Angela was still pressing questions, and you can't reassure Angela.

"I woke up and thought it was all a huge nightmare. But then I heard a clatter as some glass fell out of my bed, felt the blood dripping down my legs and I have no idea how I actually held on that long. I had about 20 gaping wounds and countless slashes across my entire body, even a few on my back. I finally found my voice and I screamed, somehow managing to sit up.

"My dad ran in and began to cry, pressing the Emergency Button on the wall (there's one in every room), calling the Hospital Ward to send some paramedics. In the night some blood had dried and was stuck to my skin. I was naked apart from my underwear, but obviously I didn't think about that then.

"I had to have seven life saving operations, all across my abdomen, where my mum struck me frequently. And... I needed a lot of blood. I had nearly died and I needed someone who was in the same blood group as me, with pure blood that would be suitable to me. That was when _he_ stepped in..."

2-T stopped, gulped and bowed his head. Angela shook him in confusion.

"Who? Who gave you blood?" she screeched. 2-T looked around and saw his best friend, B.Bop, playing a game of Mouse Trap with Do-Wah. 2-T remembered_ – he felt his body was caving in around him, and then someone appeared at the side of his_ _bed... a heaven sent angel?_ 2-T smiled. _No..._ B.Bop looked up at him on the other side of the room and waved. 2-T did back. If it hadn't have been for B.Bop he'd have been dead. Angela followed 2-T's gaze and saw '_the donor'_.

"Oh..." she murmured and smiled, clutching 2-T's arm in respect. _That's _why they're inseparable. _That'_s why they're so close...

"Any how, my dad didn't press charges." Angela snapped to attention.

"WHAT?" she breathed, checking 2-T up and down. She must have heard wrong. His mother had tried to kill him, and his dad didn't press charges? Why not?

"He didn't do it... because he still loved her." He spat, bitterly. His dad loved his mum, still did. Stupid twat. Angela gasped.

"You've got to be joking?! First she stabs your dad in the arm, then knocks you're brother out and then stabs you with a knife? He's mad." 2-T shook his head.

"No, he's just in love." And he turned away. "Even if it is with the wrong person."

AUTHORS NOTES: Done! Tired, must go 2 bed. It is 10 to 11 (pm) and I am shattered. Night night!


End file.
